


You Stayed

by auselysium



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Bottoming from the Top, M/M, Pillow Talk, Sex, Talk about war, talk about prothetics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auselysium/pseuds/auselysium
Summary: "You're awake.""You stayed."Or what happened the night before.





	You Stayed

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I'm a giant ball of Michael Guerin feels tonight. The scene in Michael's trailer at the beginning of 1 x 3 aside from being soft and beautiful as anything, reveals so much about Michael. When Isobel shows up and Alex freaks out asking "Does she know about us?" and Michael replies "Would it be so bad if she did?" To me, he's basically saying, "Yeah, I'm ready to be your boyfriend and tell my family."
> 
> I also really wanted them to talk about Alex's injury and give a lead in to that impactful shot of Michael's hand with Alex's leg.

“Do you wanna take it off?”

“Patience, Guerin.” Alex drags his open mouth across Michael’s jaw, down the length of his throat to where his collar bones meet. “You’ve already got me mostly naked and I’m not in any rush tonight, are you?”

His lower lip catches in between his teeth and two coquettish fingers dance through the patch of hair between Michael’s pecs.

“No,” Michael pants, with a fleeting grin. He twists his head against his pillow when those same fingers travel over his abdomen and past his navel. The full breadth of Alex’s hand encircles Michael’s cock, giving it one single, delicious pull.

“Good.”

Alex is being positively filthy tonight and Michael knows if he lets him continue for even one second more he won’t be able to stop himself (or Alex, for that matter), so he lifts his head and rolls onto his hip.

“I meant…” Alex’s hand falls away as Michael reaches over the fabric of Alex’s boxers that he’s still, regrettably, wearing and down the length of Alex’s right thigh to the point where human flesh mets human ingenuity.

“Do you want to take this off?”

For the first time that night, Alex looks at Michael with something other than blatant heat.

His text earlier that evening had been totally cliche and completely transparent.

_What you up to?_

Michael had smirked, able to hear Alex’s feigned innocence through the written word. Though he hadn’t been sure why Alex was still making excuses anymore.

Just about a week prior, Alex found Michael as he packed up his old trailer site, the one owned by the Air Force now. He’d finally expressed all the pent up pain he’d felt when he saw Michael look away and Michael had vowed, “I never look away. Not really.”

He’d followed an uneasy Alex into the airstream so they could share in a way they’d only been allowed once before, on that June afternoon in the Manes’ backyard shed before everything had been shattered apart.

After the week they’d had it seemed perfectly clear to Michael what was happening between them. There had been a second time back at the airstream. Alex’s ass hiked up on Michael’s desk, his thighs wrapped around Michael’s hips, holding on tight for the ride. Again in Michael's’ truck outside the cabin, his fingers threading through Alex’s silky hair at the back of his head as Alex’s lips and tongue sucked slurred curses from Michael’s throat.

Michael had replied to Alex’s text with a picture of the roaring fire he had going in the fire pit, the neck of his beer bottle just in view in the bottom corner of the shot, and replied _Got room for one more._

Which is how they had ended up sitting under the stars, elbow to elbow in companionable ease. They’d shared a few more beers, some laughs as Michael told stories about life at the junkyard before moving into the trailer when the desert night became too cold and the heat in each of their glances became undeniable.

Alex had plunged in for a kiss. Michael had tilted his face, meeting Alex’s lips with an open mouth. As Alex had slowly walked Michael towards his bed, he’d wanted nothing more than to feel Alex’s boldness. That bravery that compelled him to pierce his septum and wear eyeliner in high school even though he knew what it would make the other kids say. That bravery that had flung him into the chaos of battle. That brought him home to Michael and to this moment.

But now there was unease in those same eyes, a look that bordered on shame.

“It’s just...last time,” Michael stutters. “I just thought it might be easier...if you...”

Not that the first time had been difficult. In fact, falling into Alex - maneuvering their bodies until they found the most pleasurable angles, remembering the music of Alex’s moans, the fire of all that Alex could make him feel - it had been as easy as waking up. The immovable extension to Alex’s body of plastic and aluminum had never once detracted from Michael’s moment, but he had noticed - through the thick looks they shared - flashes, grimaces, stunted noises of unexpected pain that Alex probably wasn’t even aware of.

Alex sighs now, rolling onto his back and forcing the fingers of both hands back through his hair.

“It wouldn’t…” He swallowed, catching his breath momentarily. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered...” Michael shrugs.

It takes Alex another moment to decide. But once he does, he moves quickly, lifting his hips and shucking his boxers off all in one motion. He sits and Michael props himself on his elbow, trying not to get too distracted by Alex’s naked proximity. Instead, he focuses on watching Alex as he undoes a series of complicated latches and slips the prosthetic cradle and sleeve off over his knee.

His already scarred skin is red and heavily welted in strangulated lines from a whole day’s wear. Michael has imagined the extent of Alex’s injury before now, but the sight of it in the yellowed-fluorescence of the trailer’s overhead light, leaves Michael reeling within Alex’s pain.

Michael does not begrudge this momentary pause. Like he’d said, he wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Alex’s hands, broad and thick, massage delicately over his own skin for a moment. Working carefully at the surgical scars and deep into muscle. Michael’s face goes red and warm, fully aware that he is watching - what Alex is _letting_ him watch - is something intensely personal.

“Pretty weird, huh?” Alex comments, his tone clearly an attempt to negate any awkwardness between them. He propps the leg-shaped length of metal and plastic next to his crutch at the foot of the bed. “Just being able to take off a limb?”

Michael can move things with his mind, this is hardly the weirdest ability in the room.

“Hey, everyone’s gotta have a party trick up their sleeves, right?” Michael says. “Or down your pant leg, in your case.” Alex gives him an entertained and endearing glance.

“How long ago did that happen, anyway?”

The question is out before Michael even considers if he should ask it or not.

Alex levels him with a look. “This really how you want to spend our time, now that you finally got me naked?” He might as well have said, _Now is not the fucking time,_ Geurin. Either way, his tone is clear.

“Course not,” Michael says, laying back down and spreading his hands above his head in silent surrender. He puts on a wicked smile. Licks his lower lip. If all Alex is looking for a good, old-fashioned fuck, Michael is more than happy to turn it back on for him.

Alex swings his now unencumbered leg over Michael’s legs, his eyes morphed into something sharp and dangerous. It’s a beautiful look for Alex.

“What do you want then?” He braces his hands on Michael’s chest, settling lower into his lap. The soft swell of Alex’s ass is a infuriating tease for Michael’s cock, risen again in full of appreciation of his view.

“You. Now. Just like this.”

“That’s much better use of our time, don’t you think? Get the lube.”

Michael reaches to the shelf behind him, handing the bottle to Alex who flips open the lid and pours an ample amount over his first two fingers before handing it back. They’d already had the “I’m clean, you’re clean” talk the first time. It’s not like Michael could ever contract a human STD, anyway, so Michael opens the lube and slicks himself. He is impossibly hard in own hand, especially when Alex reaches behind and sinks against his fingers. His head falls forward and he lets out a breath so sweet that Michael can hardly think.

“Fuck, Alex,” Michael gasps, overwhelmed by the sight. He clutches at Alex’s thighs. “You’re so gorgeous.”

His compliment is rewarded with a closed-eyed curl of Alex’s perfect lips.

Alex rises, tucks his pelvis, sets his teeth. His chest moves and his lashes fall slow against his cheek bones as he lowers himself onto Michael. He hums, low and filthy, and with a toss of his head as his thighs work and he begins to ride Michael. Slowly at first, still adjusting but loving it nevertheless.

The vice-like heat, as always, nearly chokes Michael into silence. But it’s more than just the feel of Alex’s body around him that’s left Michael speechless.

Something has changed over the past week. The quick-before-we-come-to-our-senses desperation has ebbed away, leaving in its wake a simmering desire ripe to explore. Their bodies arch towards one another in prettier shapes, like courting animals putting on a show. Gone is the anger that this thing between them is still undeniable. What Michael feels as he watches Alex, what he tastes as Alex bends forward to sweep his lips across Michael’s once more, is maybe even a bit of happiness.

“Ok?” Alex breathes, as if suddenly concerned that’s Michael’s gone dumb.

With an audible growl, Michael surges up, his arm coming to wrap around the expanse of Alex’s back to grab the nape of his neck. He fills Alex’s mouth with his tongue, with his sounds. Showing him just how “ok” this all is. He plants his other hand on the mattress behind so he can fuck up into Alex, their chests aligned, fist fulls of Michael’s curls in both Alex’s hands.

“Guerin,” he cries when he comes first. “ _Michael_ ,” he murmurs, drifting through their come down, his body undulating in heady waves. Michael’s legs splay sideways as he falls back to the bed. Any lingering tension not eradicated by his orgasm, becomes background noise as Alex curls next to him, his head on Michael’s chest.

“It happened last January.”

Michael’s breath, still coming heavy and fast, freezes in his chest when he realizes that Alex is answering his question from before. He lets out the halted breath without moving a muscle, worried any sudden movement will frighten Alex away from revealing more.

“It was an IED. Roadside bomb. I mean what else was it going to be, right?”

“Somehow, I always imagined you stuck behind some computer monitor with green letters in a bunker somewhere. Not out on patrols.”

“I wasn’t. But we still had to get from point A to point B,didn’t we?” Alex resettles his head with a soft brush of his cheek. He tents his fingers on the rise of Michael’s shoulder, playing gently with the sun-freckled skin. “I didn’t lose consciousness. So I was able to pull myself behind the wreckage from one of the Humvees. I think that’s the only way I managed to survive when the shooting started.”

Michael stills Alex’s fingers, linking them in a fierce hold and then pressing them to his chest. He needs the reassurance of Alex’s solid form to chase away the visuals of a bloody and gruesome scene. How Alex can walk around, laugh with his friends, make love, after living what he has, Michael doesn’t know. He just knows it makes him remarkable.

“You’re the first guy that I...um...” Alex lifts his eyes to test for Michael’s sincerity.

“That you told?” Michael whispers.

“That I’ve been with since it happened.”

Michael’s basically a genius and this math isn’t hard. But instead of this confession feeling like a heavy, constrictive weight Michael feels mollified. Because this, too, has changed.

Somewhere between that first night at the high school reunion, when they’d crashed together with ages old desperation, and now, permission has been granted to trust each other again. Like they did their first time together before Jesse Manes broke them apart so effectively. Michael has felt like a sentimental ass hole all week, feeling like the building blocks of a monument they’d both waited so long to construct was finally being laid at their feet.

But this feels like the capstone.

Michael turns onto his side so their foreheads touch. He cradles their joined hands between their bodies. With his free hand he sweeps Alex’s hair away from his brow with a single finger.

“So many firsts for us, huh, Alex?”

Alex takes a big breath, letting it out unnaturally slow, as if someone has taught him to breathe like this when he’s nervous.

They’re at a dangerous precipice but Michael is ready to fall.

“I should go.”

Michael holds him in place, not needing to try very hard. “It’s late,” he says, giving Alex an overly-confident grin. “You’re tired.”

Alex rolls his eyes at Michael’s blatant ploy but he’s smiling as he does and makes no motion to leave. Instead he sits, grabs the corner of the thin white sheet ruched down into the corner of the bed and tucks it over both their shoulders.

The next morning, Michael wakes to the golden-hued brush of Alex’s fingertips and lips against his stomach.

“You’re awake,” Alex says as Michael inhales the morning through his nose. He rubs at his eyes, matches the smile he finds on Alex’s face when he opens them.

“You stayed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Michael's a giant schmoop on the inside, ok? (At least in this fic.) I also left it off earlier than planned, cause I choose to deny the fact that Alex could wake up his lover in the most glorious way imaginable and then dump him. Just gonna pretend it didn't happen. They're already living in the cabin with the dog as far as I'm concerned, k? K.
> 
> Auselysium on tumblr too!!


End file.
